


Lesser Known Facts

by Goat_in_a_coat



Series: Lesser Known Facts [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: AU idea, Aizen is mentioned but not by name, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Ichigo is Kaien and Miyako's son, Ichigo is a cute baby, Kaien and Miyako feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goat_in_a_coat/pseuds/Goat_in_a_coat
Summary: A well known fact about Ichigo is that he cares deeply for his sisters.A lesser known fact is that he is not actually their biological brother.
Series: Lesser Known Facts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098809
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Lesser Known Facts

**Author's Note:**

> !!! this is from nanowrimo and also really late.  
> sometimes i can write, and sometimes i cannot, which can be seen by the fact that this is the only thing i produced in two months.  
> the small size of this fic is a testament to my failures to keep a consistent writing schedule  
> ooooops?

The rain falls in heavy sheets, shaking leaves on trees, pattering heavily on the packed pavement. It is dark and cold, and wet. Very wet. Water flows in the gutters, and street lights reflect in the abundance of puddles, causing them to glitter as if they are made of something more precious. Every now and then, a car passes, headlights blazing. The sound of the car interrupts the constant susurrus of the falling rain with harsher splashing sounds, and shatters the shining of the puddles like so much glass. Torrents of water lash through the air, obscuring two figures as they move with hurried urgency through the storm. 

A soft mewling cry, muffled by the thudding of the rain, rises from the shorter of the two cloaked shapes. Soft hushing follows, only heard by the figure’s silent partner. 

The two move through the darkened, soaked town without disturbing the water in the puddles. They skim over the water like ghosts, never causing a ripple or a wave. It’s almost as if the night itself doesn’t acknowledge their presence. They approach an overhang. The taller of the two figures pauses.

“Here? I think we’ve come far enough.” The figure’s voice is male, soft and sad, but with an undercurrent of panic.

“Nowhere is far enough. But this...this will have to do.” The second figure, a woman, replies.

“You really think that he will come all the way here?”

“If he wanted to, he could. It doesn’t matter how far. But perhaps the journey will be too...inconvenient for him as of yet. I don’t think he cares about the Transient World right now.”

The man ducks his head. His hands twitch, as if aching for a weapon.

“But if we leave him here…”

“I know, Kaien. I know.”

“My sister--”

“We’ve discussed this already. He won’t be safe there. Well, he won’t be safe here, either. But at least--At least here he is… away.”

“Miyako, I--”

“He’s onto us, Kaien. The clan is already in danger. This is the best we can do.”

Drops of water fall, saltier than those pouring from the sky.

The man and woman stop under the overhang. The woman shrugs back her cloak, revealing a baby, wrapped in a blanket, underneath. The baby wails quietly, and the man steps closer. He raises a shaking, scarred hand and gently caresses the baby’s face, brushing wispy strands of orange hair away from the child’s tiny forehead. 

“He’s just-- He’s just so _small_.”

“We waited as long as we could. This way, he has some chance of survival.” the woman says matter-of-factly. Something in her voice must catch the man’s attention, because his gaze darts up away from the baby and onto her face. Tears are falling hard and fast down her face, the same as his.

“Oh, _Miyako_.” The man wraps his arms around the woman and the baby. His wife and child.

“Kaien, I don’t know if I _can_. _Kaien--_ ” The rest of her words dissolve into hitching, suppressed sobs. The man holds her silently, not trusting himself to speak.

Minutes later, they leave, leaning heavily on one another. The bundle lies alone on a bench underneath the overhang, crying alone in the night.

The man pauses and twists around, catching one last glimpse of the abandoned baby.

“Goodbye, my son. I hope you will forgive me, one day. I wish-- We _will_ meet again.” he murmurs.

The man and woman continue walking on their way. Another car passes on the street, tossing up spray from the ground. When the mist clears, the two have disappeared into the rainy background.

.......

Morning breaks. The storm has passed. The same street, in new light, remains damp but shines. A bird calls from the top of a telephone wire, its shrill voice ushering in people who fill the streets on various errands. Small wisps of steam rise from the wet pavement as it warms in the late summer sun.

A young woman walks slowly down the street, struggling slightly under the weight of a brown grocery bag in her arms. She stops at an overhang, placing the heavy bag on the ground. She straightens, hands on her hips, panting. Drops of leftover water from the roof of the overhang roll off the metal and fall, making small splashing noises as they hit the ground.

A noise catches her attention. 

The young woman’s head turns to the side, her gaze shifting over to the bench under the overhang, where the abandoned bundle lies. She squints slightly at the bundle, her hand coming up to her temple to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

It can’t be, can it? No one would leave something so precious out here alone. 

She looks closer, hoping that she isn't right. 

But she is. It’s a baby. It can’t be more than four months old, still retaining the slightly squashed look of a newborn. On its head there is a downy covering of orange hair, and the baby is crying, eyes screwed up as it wails. 

The woman startles, knocking over her grocery bag. A few peaches roll away down the street. 

She takes a few hesitant steps towards the baby, groceries all but forgotten, the paper of the bag slowly darkening from the dampness of the ground. The baby continues to cry, and the woman stops in indecision, and stares. She has no idea where this child came from, what should she do? Is someone coming back for the baby? Would it be wrong to pick up the infant and carry it to another place? Would the baby even let her pick it up? 

As she continues to stare at the baby, it stops crying. Brown eyes open and stare up at her curiously from the bench. A gurgling sound that might be a babyish giggle echoes through the sheltered area. Quick as lightning, the baby’s mouth opens in a smile.

Oh, but the baby is _cute_.

The woman scoops the baby-bundle up from the bench, and it laughs again. She recalls that the nearest police station is a few blocks away and starts heading in that direction. She peers into eyes that are nearly the same shade as her own and chuckles. The baby has stuck its entire hand into its mouth and is looking a little bit confused.

“Let’s see if we can find who left you there, huh, little strawberry?”

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue this?  
> If I do, it will probably take a really long time to develop plot and stuff.  
> This AU idea has just been bugging me for a while and I wanted to get it down somehow,,, please please comment and let me know your opinion?  
> anyway merry christmas and happy new year to the small amount of people who will see this lol ^.^


End file.
